


Come Out, Come Out

by magnolia_9



Series: Devil's Backbone [2]
Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, Consensual Kink, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Handcuffs, I'm not joking - Freeform, M/M, Smut, Spanking, honestly you guys, ironic safe words, pretty filthy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-12 01:45:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11726913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magnolia_9/pseuds/magnolia_9
Summary: Rick learns a few things about himself as his relationship with his son’s baseball coach blossoms. Bonus scene/companion toDevil’s Backbone.





	Come Out, Come Out

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, friends! I originally wrote part of this for [Devil’s Backbone](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10217699/chapters/22674920), but I ended up cutting it because I couldn’t get it to flow with the narrative. I always wanted to flesh it out a little and post it as a stand-alone “deleted scene” type thing, so here it finally is! This would take place somewhere between chapters four and five. 
> 
> I don’t want to be a broken record, but - *points to the tags* - there is real-deal-Holyfield Dom!Negan and MasochistSub!Rick + spanking kink here, so please be mindful if that is not your jam.

It first came up on a Thursday after work. It was one of those rare days that they had the house to themselves - Carl was working on a school project at a friend’s home, and Beth had taken Judith to a playdate. When they had the house to themselves…well. It got loud, and it got rough, and Rick had a hard time keeping his mind on the task at hand as he drove home from the station. That familiar, pleasant ache blooming between his hips at the thought of having his boyfriend all to himself for an evening was distracting.

 _Boyfriend._ That’s what he was, although the innocent, tentative word never felt right. He had fallen straight into his bed on their first real date, and there was nothing remotely innocent or tentative about what they done there. Maybe it was because they had both been widowed; maybe it was always bolder the second time around. By the time Rick realized he had a boyfriend, it had gone so much further than that: the man was an inextricable part of his life.

He had thought he would never recover from the blow Lori’s death had dealt him. He had thought he would never let someone in again, so when he did, it was equal parts shocking and shockingly welcome.

He found the kitchen and living room silent and empty, and he smiled to himself as he put away his gun and holster. “You upstairs?” he called as double-checked the lock on the drawer he kept them in when he was home.

“Come and find out.” His voice floated down from the staircase, and its familiar rumble was magnetic.

Rick found himself standing at the bedroom door an embarrassingly short time after he had been summoned.

Negan was reclining with his back against the headboard, his long legs stretched out in front of him. His jacket was tossed across an upholstered chair that sat in the corner of the room, and Rick leaned against the door for a moment and smiled, taking in the sight. Negan had his arms folded behind his head, and the white cotton of his tee-shirt was rucked up. Rick’s eyes were drawn to the glimpse of toned stomach that revealed.

“See something you like, officer?” Negan teased.

“Yeah,” Rick answered with soft amusement. “I do.”

Negan hummed, eyes narrowing. “Well, then you might want to get that uniform off and get over here. I’ve been waiting for your cute ass to get home for fucking _ever_. Was about to get started without you.”

Rick felt a hot shiver dance down his spine at the thought. He walked up to the edge of the bed and gazed down at his lover. “Patience is a virtue, Negan. Anyone ever tell you that? I think I learned that one in kindergarten, but I guess things are different up north.”

He gave a choked cry as Negan caught him by the arm, his grip iron, and jerked him across his lap. “The hell you doin’?” he demanded incredulously as Negan squeezed his ass roughly.

“ _Mouthy_ ,” Negan growled above him, and it would have sounded dangerous if Rick didn’t know him well enough to detect the playful note in his voice. “You are fucking mouthy, Deputy Grimes. You know what you need? A fucking spanking.” He chuckled, smoothing a hand over the curve of Rick’s backside and down the back of his thigh.

Rick stiffened, feeling his face heat to burning instantly. He tried to think of a retort, but he was distracted by the confused rush of arousal and embarrassment that flooded him. He tried to wriggle his way off Negan’s lap, but the other man tsked and held him in place.

“Well, Rick? What do _you_ think you need? Should I teach you a little fucking respect or what?”

Rick tried to speak again, but nothing came to his lips. What _did_ he think? He felt like a bundle of nerves in Negan’s lap. He had never been put in this position before - actually, there were a hell of a lot of positions he had never been put in before he met Negan, he reflected wryly - and he didn’t know what to do with the confused swirl of thought and feeling in him.

“Still with me, Rick?” Negan asked, sounding amused.

“Yeah, I just…” he faltered, and Negan pulled him up to sitting in his lap. He looked searchingly into his face, and Rick dropped his gaze. Negan could make him feel so exposed, so open, just by fixing those piercing hazel eyes on his.

Negan kissed him softly, squeezing one warm thigh beneath his hand. He pulled back slowly, and Rick chased his lips on sheer instinct, making him grin. “Well, think about it,” he said breezily. He shifted and tumbled Rick back onto the bed, leaning in close to his face. “I’m gonna suck your cock dry,” he said almost sweetly, shooting his eyebrows up in a suggestive flash. “Any objections to _that_?”

Rick shook his head, face flaming, and Negan beamed and dove between his legs.

He did think about it, afterwards. About lying across Negan’s lap, maybe with his arm twisted behind his back, and his lover would _teach you some respect, Rick, because you’re mouthy, so fucking mouthy._ His body told him what he needed to know, immediately thrilling hot and hard to the thought. Rick came into his hand more than a few times to the image on the days Negan wasn’t around. The first time he did, he sank to his knees in the shower, panting and confused, feeling like he had turned an unexpected corner in his own mind.

He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised. He was already well down that path with Negan. The first time they had slept together, Negan had pulled his hair, slapped his ass, pressed his face into the mattress, and made him scream, and Rick had fallen right to his knees for it. If someone had told Rick that he would ever let a lover dominate him like that he would have laughed.

But of course, that was before he met Negan, the man with the wolf's grin and the molten eyes.

***

It came up again a week later, when Carl and Judith were up with their grandmother for the weekend. They went over to Negan’s small, ranch-style house on those weekends, a ritual that had developed somewhere along the line, and if things got loud and rough at home, that was fucking _nothing_ compared to what happened at Negan’s place.

Rick hadn’t walked five steps into the living room before it started.

“Take off your clothes,” Negan commanded. He was sprawled on the couch, jacket unzipped and hanging open, and his eyes on Rick were dark and ravenous.

“Really?” Rick asked, trying to sound arch but betrayed by the soft, hungry growl that his voice had suddenly become. “No ‘hi, honey, how was your day’?”

“Hi, honey, how was your day?” Negan parroted. “Happy? Now take your fucking clothes off before I pin you down and rip them the fuck off of you.” He grinned at Rick, tongue emerging to lick at the corner of his mouth.

Rick followed his tongue with his eyes, letting himself anticipate how it was going to feel on his mouth, his body. “Think you can pin me, Negan?” he asked in soft challenge, body singing at the thought - _god, yes, come here and try it._

Negan let his head fall back as he laughed. “I _know_ I can, deputy. _Fuck._ ” He rose so suddenly that Rick fell back an instinctive step, startled. He was around the table and at his back in a moment, crowding him, lips on his ear. “Mouthy,” Negan hissed, and Rick shuddered, smiling, as the other man gripped his hips. He pressed a hard kiss to the spot below his ear. “Lemme ask you something, you smart-mouthed pain in my fucking ass. You thought at all about what I asked you last Thursday?”

“Why?” Rick asked, inhaling the soap-and-leather scent of the man behind him. He felt Negan smirk into the side of his hair, and he suddenly found himself bent sharply at the waist, face in the coffee table as Negan pinned his shoulder with one hand and squeezed his ass with the other.

“Because you’re _mouthy_ , Rick. I want to show you what happens to mouthy cops in my house.”

“W-what’s that?” Rick managed to ask through the hot rush of adrenaline surging through him, making it difficult to work his mouth properly.

Negan laughed and pulled him back up against his chest, nuzzling his neck. “They get punished, Rick. They get their sweet, tight ass spanked red. Rules are rules, baby, you know all about that.”

Rick shook with laughter, reaching back to give the dark hair a sharp tug. “Shut up, you asshole,” he said smiling. “‘The law according to Negan,’ huh? Is that one on the county books or what?”

Negan hummed, smiling, and nosed into his neck, nipping the warm flesh sharply before soothing the sting away with his tongue.

Rick melted against him, eyes drifting shut. “Yes,” he said softly. He felt Negan pause in his attentions.

“Yes what, darlin’?”

“Yes, I…you know. Let’s try it.” He was sure he was red to his navel by now.

Negan turned him slowly in his arms, and his face held the same serious expression he always wore when they were talking about the rules and boundaries of their sex life. “Is that what you want, Rick? You know I don’t want you to force anything for me. I only want it if you do.”

Rick pressed forward against him, chest throbbing with the warm delight he always felt when Negan spoke to him that gentle, careful, honest way. “I do. I get hard every time I think about it, Negan,” he confessed, shoving the words out before he lost his nerve.

Negan’s eyebrows went up his forehead as his eyes darkened. “Well, fuck _me_ , Officer Grimes. Aren’t _you_ a dirty boy.”

“You’re making me into one,” Rick mumbled, turning his burning face into Negan’s shoulder.

Negan chuckled, burying his hand in Rick’s chestnut curls. “Like hell I am. It’s either in you or it ain’t, babydoll. I’m just the guy knocking on your door, asking you to come out and play in the fucking dirt with me.”

“Hm,” Rick said into his shoulder, kissing the soft, supple grain of the leather jacket he was still wearing, “well, I can come out and play.”

Negan made a pleased noise in his throat before he grabbed Rick’s ass with both hands, squeezing hard. “Good boy. Now stand right there - “ he pointed to the middle of the living room, “ - and take your clothes off for me.”

Rick walked over slowly and turned to face his lover, who had collapsed back on the couch and thrown his feet on the coffee table, hands behind his head in a posture of utter ease. _Bastard,_ Rick thought affectionately. He lifted his hands to the buttons on his shirt and hesitated.

“ _Rick,_ ” Negan growled warningly, unable to suppress the smile twitching at the corner of his mouth, “you’re gonna get it a lot fucking worse if you try to be a fucking tease, baby.”

“A tease,” Rick mused as he unbuttoned his shirt slowly. “Which one of us is the tease again? You’re the one that leaves all those damn dirty voicemails on my phone-”

Negan gave an unrepentant snicker. “Maybe I’ll leave a few at the station for you, baby. Leave ‘em right with the front desk.” Negan lifted his gloved hand to his ear in a pantomime of holding a phone. “‘I have a message for Officer Grimes. Could you ask him if he wants his ass eaten tonight? Inquiring minds wanna know.’”

Rick groaned as he let his shirt slip through his fingers and puddle around his feet. “Don’t you dare - it’s bad enough Tara’s seen some of your texts when I leave my phone on my desk. Damn near burned her eyes out of her head, to hear her tell it.” Rick pulled his white undershirt over his head and let it fall. His hands went to his belt, and he hesitated again, feeling suddenly self-conscious. “Negan,” he laughed, flushing, “I don’t know how the hell to do this.”

Negan shot him a wicked smile, hazel eyes narrowed. “Sure you do, baby. You’re doing fine.”

Rick watched his lover watching him as he slowly undid his belt. Negan was riveted, and Rick was caught between delight, incredulity, and embarrassment. The hold he seemed to have on the dark-haired man still bewildered him sometimes. He slipped out of his pants and stood clad only in his boxers, feeling the heat prickle in his face and exposed chest. Negan’s obvious enjoyment - obvious because it was tenting his pants impressively - emboldened him. “What was that about pinnin’ me, again?” he rumbled softly, fingers toying with the waistband. He felt a hot, pleased thrill shoot through him at the almost feral hunger that flashed up in Negan’s eyes at that.

He licked his lips slowly, and from this distance, his blown eyes looked black. “Be a good boy and finish what you started, baby. Then I’ll give you _exactly_ what you want. Cross my heart.” Paired with his devilish smirk, it sounded like a threat.

Rick slipped the boxers off, fighting the instinctive urge to cover himself.

Negan slowly pulled his feet off the coffee table, sitting forward with his hands resting lightly on his knees. “You are so fucking beautiful,” he said softly, and Rick swallowed thickly, unable to tear his eyes away from Negan as the man ate him up with his hot, hungry gaze.

That feeling returned - that bewildered, happy, burning red blush of a feeling. Rick took a half-step towards Negan, suddenly very annoyed that he wasn’t already in the other man’s arms.

Negan clicked his tongue at him, eyes suddenly mischievous. “Whoa, cowboy. Go get the lube. We’re gonna need it.”

“We’re not goin’ to the bedroom?” Rick asked, smiling.

Negan shook his head slowly. “Not yet. See, I’ve had this picture in my mind all damn week, darlin' - it’s you, bent over this couch, my handprint just about tattooed on your ass. What do you think about that?”

“I think that I have no idea how you manage to get through a goddamn day with your head stuffed full of filthy shit, Negan.”

“How I manage? Baby, it’s what gets me _through_ the goddamn day.”

Rick turned, grinning, and made his way to the bedroom. He opened the top drawer of the nightstand and reached for the smooth white bottle. He noted the slight tremor in his hand, and he realized with a start that he was nervous. He frowned into the air, considering.

He _did_ want this, right? He thought he did. His body obviously responded positively to the idea, but he supposed it was possible that there was a part of him that just wanted to show Negan he could take whatever he threw at him. Was that the part that was talking now? Negan wouldn’t like it; he had just said so plainly, and Rick knew he earnestly meant it. The other man was so careful with him, as rough as it got sometimes. When the mood was on him to fuck Rick in that ferocious, thought-obliterating way, he never just _assumed_ \- he would always wait, tense and taut as a coiled snake, for the word of assent that would unleash him. If Rick went into this with the wrong motives, his lover would feel betrayed for sure. Negan wanted every touch, hard or soft, gentle or rough, to be eagerly desired. That was one of the reasons he loved him.

He froze, mind stuttering on the thought. _Love?_ He loved him? _Well, let’s look at the facts, Rick,_ a sarcastic voice from the back of his mind piped up. _He takes your kids to school. He cooks them dinner. He orders you to walk buck-ass naked around his house to collect the shit he’s going to use to fuck you, and you do it with a skip in your step. What does that add up to?_ Rick stood still, arrested by the revelation. He tucked it carefully away in his mind to deal with later.

“Did you get lost, baby?” Negan called from the living room, a smile in his voice.

Rick turned and started for the living room before pausing. “No,” he called, a mischievous smile tugging his lips, “but I think I need you to come get me.” Part of him was always a little taken aback with himself when he initiated this, but it was what Negan had said - _it’s either in you or it’s not, babydoll._ It was in him, all right.

“You really want to make this hard for yourself, Rick? It’s going to be plenty hard already.” Negan’s slow footfalls were echoing in the hallway, deliberately loud and taunting. “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he sang, and the dark glee in it sent a hard shiver up and down Rick’s spine. He came into view in the doorway, placing a hand on either side of the frame.

Rick was very aware of his nakedness contrasted to his lover - the other man didn’t have a stitch of clothing off yet. He was even still wearing his damn riding gloves. Rick met the other man’s eyes challengingly, unable to keep the playful smile off his face. “I’m not hidin' from you, Negan.”

“That’s smart, baby. No sense in fucking prolonging the inevitable,” he replied, his voice soft and dangerous. His eyes raked Rick’s body again, and he grinned at him, teeth flashing. “Mm, honey. Don’t you look good enough to _eat_.”

“Grandmother, what big teeth you have,” Rick replied, tilting his head to his shoulder.

Negan chuckled, eyes alight with mischief. “That’s not the big thing I have for you, sweetheart.”

Rick groaned. “Set that one right up, didn’t I?” He leaned back against the wall, anticipation speeding up his heart as Negan strode into the bedroom.

“Sure did, little red riding Rick.” Negan was in his space in a heartbeat, crowding him. “Too fucking bad, the big, bad wolf has you all to himself.” He took the bottle of lube from Rick’s clutching fingers and slid it into his jacket pocket, grinning. “Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. So are you gonna be a good boy and come quietly?”

Rick shook his slowly head in negation, mouth dry, and Negan’s eyes lit up.

“Didn’t think so,” he said almost gently, and then the world tilted crazily on its axis as Negan bent and threw him over his shoulder like a sack of flour.

“What the fuck - Negan!” Rick cried, fingers sinking into his jacket. The man's shoulder was digging unpleasantly into his midsection, and he wriggled, trying to adjust the angle without tumbling to the floor. A sharp slap to his ass stilled him, and he gasped, balanced precariously.

“You stay still, Ricky,” Negan grunted. “I really don’t want to drop your ass on the floor.”

Rick really didn’t want his ass to be dropped on the floor, either, so he obeyed, clinging to Negan as he hauled him down the hallway and back to the living room. Negan walked behind the couch before putting him back on his feet. His backside still stung from the single slap, and he felt another flash of apprehension about what exactly he had just volunteered himself for.

Negan seemed to catch it, and he took Rick’s face in his hands, eyes suddenly gentle. The big bad wolf had fled. “What’s the safe word, Rick?” he asked softly, thumb tracing his bottom lip.

“Zombie,” Rick sighed with a smile. “I’m fine, Negan.” He smiled up at him, bold and sly. “Do your worst.”

Negan snorted. “I don’t know about that, but…” He gripped Rick’s arm and spun him sharply before bending him over the back of the couch with a hand to the back of his neck. “I’ll do plenty,” he said almost to himself, giving Rick’s ass a two-handed squeeze. “Ah, wait.” He plucked up Rick’s undershirt and maneuvered it beneath him, draped over the couch.

Rick glared over his shoulder. “Really, Negan? My shirt? You don’t have towels all of a sudden?” Rick registered the danger in Negan’s answering chuckle a split-second before he laid five or so merciless smacks on his backside. The pain knocked the breath out of him, and he couldn’t recover between the rapid blows. He was gasping raggedly against the textured weave of the sofa’s upholstery when he realized Negan had stopped and was rubbing him gently.

“Yeah, that’s what it fucking feels like,” Negan said above him, open amusement in his voice. “Sure you wanna do this?”

Rick’s arousal ached between his legs, and he felt himself already beginning to leak. “I don’t know _why_ ,” he said hoarsely, “but hell - I really do. That fuckin’ hurts, but it’s making me…I’m…ah, Negan!” Rick choked off as the other man slid a hand around his waist and wrapped it around his length, stroking slowly.

“Oh, Rick,” he said, his voice low and sensuous, “oh, _Rick_. You are _hard_ , baby, you are hard as fucking steel. You love it, don’t you? You _surprising_ motherfucker, you love this kinky shit.” He punctuated that with a hard slap, and Rick made a wanton noise as he rocked forward. “Say it, darlin’. Let me fucking hear it.”

“I love it,” Rick sighed, letting his eyes fall shut.

Negan withdrew his hand from him, and he whimpered at the loss of contact. “Uh-uh, honey,” Negan laughed, “you haven’t fucking earned that yet. You’ve been bad, remember? All that fucking back talk.” Negan’s hand moved slowly over his ass, and his entire body tightened in anticipation. “Now you’re gonna take a long, hard spanking on that fucking incredible ass of yours, and it’s gonna make you real fucking _sorry_ about the shit you’ve been pulling.”

“Yes,” Rick whispered, shivering hard as adrenaline tingled through him. He heard the rustle of leather above him as Negan bent and kissed the small of his back gently. Then a heavy hand landed on the spot, pressing him flat against cushion as Negan set about making good on his threats with his other hand.

Jesus tap-dancing Christ, it hurt. Soon, Rick was crying out with each blow, twisting beneath Negan’s iron grip on him. He felt like his skin was on fire, and it all just went _straight_ to his throbbing, delighted dick. There was a part of him that was still incredulous. _Can’t fucking believe it,_ he thought as his entire body twitched away from the ruthless slaps Negan was laying on his ass. _I love this kinky shit._

“Oh, baby,” Negan growled above him, “I could watch your cute ass bounce all _day_.”

Rick managed to choke out a laugh between pained grunts. “Bastard!” he gasped.

“That’s right,” he leered mockingly above him. He paused, rubbing him slowly, and Rick panted as aftershocks of pain pulsed through him. “I’m a bastard, Rick. _Your_ bastard. Your mean fucking bastard of a boyfriend, and don’t you just cream your fucking jeans for it?” He squeezed the reddened flesh hard, and Rick couldn't help the low whine that escaped him or the way he rocked back into the rough touch.

“Goddamn it, Rick. You take it like a champ.” Negan’s voice sounded strained. He dropped to his knees behind Rick, and suddenly his lips and tongue were moving over the red, burning flesh, soothing him.

Rick choked out a gasp that turned into a pitiful-sounding whine as Negan moved to lap and kiss the tender flesh at his opening. The pleasure of the intimate touch was overpowering the lingering pain, and Rick felt like he couldn’t catch his breath through his heaving, soundless whimpers. Negan’s slick fingers dove into him, and his legs went limp and useless. “ _Negan_!” He was shocked at the volume of it considering how little air he had in his lungs; his cry was almost a shriek, reverberating around the open, empty house.

“Yes, baby,” he said huskily, trailing kisses down to the back of his trembling thigh. “You were so good, so very, very fucking good for me, and now I’m going to make you come so hard you’ll think you died and went to heaven. Or hell,” he amended, grinning against his throbbing flesh, “probably way better ass-fucking going on down there.” He rose to his feet behind him.

Rick felt the thick head of the other man’s cock slide over his entrance. His entire body was throbbing in time with his racing heart, and all he could do was close his eyes and wait for Negan to fulfill his dirty promises. He felt pressure against his entrance, but Negan suddenly eased back. Rick nearly screamed in frustration.

“This how you want it, baby? This shitty couch isn’t the most comfortable thing to get fucked over.”

“Don’t care,” Rick ground out, pushing back against him desperately. “Just do it like this, Negan. _Hard._ Hold my hips in place.”

Negan groaned behind him and pressed the head of his cock more firmly against Rick’s softened opening. “Jesus _Christ_ , Rick. You’re gonna fucking kill me. So fucking sexy.” He breached him, and Rick whined, body hungry for the feel of him filling him up. “I’m out of my fucking mind for you,” he went on through gritted teeth. “How did I get this lucky, huh? What the fuck did I do to make you even look at me?” He gripped Rick’s hips tightly, as requested, and slid just the barest few inches into him.

“Negan, please, _please_ , don’t go slow,” Rick begged, twisting helplessly in his grasp, trying to push his hips closer, take him deeper.

“Honey,” he growled, and that was all he managed before whatever he was going to say dissolved into incoherent praise punctuated with gasps as he sank in him to the hilt.

Rick’s fingers clutched the soft cushion beneath him as he panted. He tried to catch his breath long enough to beg his lover again - _please don’t go slow_ \- but it wasn’t necessary because Negan was already rocking him hard into the back of the couch. _Thank Christ I don’t have to work until Monday,_ Rick thought deliriously, because he was going to feel this - Negan had been right about the old couch, it was _not_ the most comfortable thing to be fucked over, and his thighs were going to be as bruised as his ass. He didn’t care about that in the least right now, though. Not as long as the pleasure of feeling Negan hot and hard and _just_ where he wanted him melted him down to utter helplessness.

Negan had found his voice again. “Baby, you are so fucking beautiful all bent over and taking my dick,” he breathed above him. “So fucking beautiful. I know what you want, baby, I know just what you want, and I’m going to fucking give it to you so fucking _good_.” His hand dove into Rick’s hair and gave a rough tug, and a cry caught in Rick’s throat, coming out choked and desperate. “Say my fucking name, beautiful.”

“Negan,” Rick moaned, the name spilling thick and sweet over his lips.

“Whose cock are you wrapped around, darlin'?” His pace was hard and relentless, and it was a wonder the old couch didn't crack in two beneath them.

“Yours, yours, _Negan_ , p-please…” He was already so close, so agonizingly close.

“And who do you fucking belong to?” Negan hissed above him, hard and demanding and suddenly all _menace._ He gave the soft brown curls another sharp, stinging tug. " _Who?_ "

That did it. “ _Negan_!” It was a near-shriek as he came, and he came _hard_ , drawing tight and taut for a breathless eternity before dissolving into a trembling, sweating, panting puddle of slack limbs. Negan pounded into him once, twice, before he was pulling suddenly out of him, coating his warm, throbbing backside in sticky white. _Bastard,_ Rick thought again, mouth twitching into a weak smile. _You filthy fucking bastard._

“Fuck, fuck, _fuuuck,_ ” he heard Negan groan behind him. “You’re gonna fucking kill me, honey.” He helped Rick up from his uncomfortable slump over the back of the lumpy old couch, turning him so that he sagged into his arms. He half-carried, half-dragged him around the abused piece of furniture so that they could collapse onto it together, spent and sticky.

“ _I’m_ gonna kill _you_?” Rick said when he could finally speak again.

Negan chuckled exhaustedly and rained kisses on his damp, flushed face.

***

Negan had known, right off the fucking bat, that Rick had a wild side. He had fucking _known_.

Maybe it was just that he recognized it in other people - god knows he loved that kinky shit himself. He had once let a sweet little brunette who looked like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth choke him until the edges of his vision turned fuzzy and black while she bounced eagerly on his dick. He had come so hard it felt like his spine was going to snap in half.

Or it could have just been his intuition - Negan was perceptive, and he knew that to be one of his greatest strengths. It had certainly taken him far in his other life. Either way, he was not surprised in the least when he found out, the first time they fell into bed together, that he was one-hundred-percent on the goddamn fucking _nose_ about sweet, upstanding, earnest Deputy Rick Grimes. He liked it _rough_ \- he liked the biting, the hair pulling. He liked being held in place and fucked hard. And, yes, he had liked it when Negan had slapped that round, firm, tantalizing ass, although he had turned red as a berry when he did. But that didn’t mean he was necessarily going to go for the harder stuff - a full-on, balls-to-the-wall spanking? Having a taste for a little slap-ass during sex didn’t mean you were going to like _that_.

But it turned out Rick liked it just fine, judging from the way he got hard as fucking rock under the sharp blows. And wasn’t that just fucking _delicious_ ; didn’t that just pick him up and throw him down, as his granny used to say. Rick fucking Grimes, fearless, solid, salt-of-the-earth all-American boy in the streets, breathlessly eager masochist in the sheets. And he _trusted_ Negan with that, which was the part that checked his glee with solemnity. He trusted him. Negan didn’t deserve that kind of trust, but Rick had no way of knowing that. He didn’t know what Negan was hiding.

 _And it’s gonna fucking stay that way,_ he thought grimly. All that other shit was behind him. His blue-eyed lover was the fucking _future_ , and he could be a better man with him, a man _worthy_ of his trust, no matter how little he deserved another shot at being one. It all just fucking fell into place with him - he slipped right into his little family, and after everything he had lived through, he was so fucking _ready_ for it. Ready to take the kids to school and make dinner. Ready to pick up the groceries on the way home from work. Ready to fuck his man gently and quietly in their bedroom, because the rugrats were just down the hall. Just fucking _ready_ for it, ready to have something solid and safe. Ready for trusting, blue-eyed, big-hearted Rick Grimes, and he was _damned_ if he would let anything fuck up this ill-deserved second chance at being in love.

Because that’s where this shit had taken him. He hadn’t seen it coming, because he didn’t think it was ever going to happen again for him, but one day he turned around and -

Love.

He didn’t deserve it, but he took it anyway. That’s the kind of man he was, but he could learn to be better. He _would_ learn to be better. For him.

***

The next time Carl and Judith went up to their grandmother’s, Rick brought home some contraband from the station. He found Negan scowling at the kitchen table in front of an untidy sprawl of papers.

“A test, Rick, can you fucking believe this shit? A test. In gym. ‘We need to have written evaluations,’ that’s what they fucking told me. I’m holding a stack of goddamn tests about the rules of fucking baseball, fuck me _sideways_. And now I have to grade this stupid shit. This gig fucking sucks sometimes,” Negan groaned, stretching his arms above his head.

Rick smiled faintly at him, shuffling his feet a little. “Oh,” he said hesitantly, “are you gonna be busy, then? I thought we could…” Rick trailed off, and Negan shoved the papers away from him and looked up at him with a sly smile, catching on immediately. Rick still sounded so fucking _shy_ with him sometimes, and it was like a goddamn lit match down the front of his pants every time.

“Oh, honey. I’m never too busy for what you’re angling for,” he said with a slow wink. He noticed for the first time that Rick was holding his hand behind his back. “What do you have for me there, Rick?” he purred, rising from the chair, feeling his smile grow devilish in his face.

“You keep askin’,” Rick said almost defensively, and he brought his hand out to reveal a pair of silver handcuffs. “I brought ‘em home.”

Negan regarded him for a moment, his eyebrows halfway up his forehead in gratified surprise. He walked over to where Rick stood, closing in on him in that slow, sinuous way he had when he stalked his lover like prey. He was practically standing on top of Rick when he startled the blue-eyed man by sinking to his knees before him. “You wanna slap those things on me, baby? Bend me over that car? Maybe take your belt off and get a little _revenge_?” His voice dropped on the last word, rolling it out slowly, tantalizingly. “You should. I deserve it. I’ve been bad. I’ve been so, so, _so_ fucking bad. You _know_ I have, Officer Friendly. What do you say? You gonna teach me to respect the law?” Negan leaned forward and nuzzled his face against the front of Rick’s pants, eyes sparkling mischievously up at him.

Rick stared down at him, and he could feel his stiffening cock lying heavy against his thigh. “Yes,” he croaked. “But not today.” He offered him the cuffs, flushing scarlet as he did.

Negan took them, grinning up at him, eyes sly and amused. “You just love taking it and taking it, don’t you, baby?”

Rick smiled down at him, flushing pink. “I had a long day, Negan. Now I just wanna lie back and let you do whatever depraved thing pops into your mind.”

Negan made a noise in his throat, and Rick could see his thighs clench. “What _ever_ depraved thing pops into my mind?” he echoed, flashing his wolf’s grin at him. “You might wanna rethink _that_ overly permissive shit, baby. Could get you in a whole lotta trouble.”

Rick slid his hands in the dark hair. “Kinda what I was countin’ on,” he answered softly, breath hitching as his lover’s eyes burned up at him.

“Go the garage,” Negan said softly, and even from his position on his knees in front of Rick, his tone brooked no argument. “When you get there, take your clothes off, then open the back door of the squad car and bend over the seat. Too bad for you, officer,” he went on, grinning faintly, “but I think the bad guy is going to win this time.”

“Are you a bad guy, Negan?” Rick asked, smiling even as his legs trembled out of control with the arousal that was burning through him at Negan’s list of intriguing-sounding commands.

“ _Hell_ yeah. I’ve got the noble officer of the law in my _evil_ clutches. I’m gonna put you in these cuffs, darlin’, and I’m going to beat your sweet, _virtuous_ ass nice and red before I fuck you. And I’m gonna fuck you _hard_.” The grin he was wearing was pure menace, and he gave a wicked chuckle as he gazed up at Rick’s hazy eyes.

Rick swallowed, hearing the audible click in his own throat. “What kind of, uh…virtuous officer of the law am I if I _want_ you to do all of that?”

Negan’s eyes darkened with lust, and he surged forward and bit Rick hard enough on his thigh to make him grunt in pain and surprise. “The fucking _best_ kind, baby. Now hop to it. I’m gonna hurt you so _good_.”

***

Rick’s cries echoed off the grey walls of the garage along with the steady tattoo of Negan’s palm against his burning backside. His wrists were cuffed behind his back, his legs had been kicked wide, and he had _never_ felt so helpless. And he fucking _loved_ it, he _loved_ it; he thought the erotic jolts and shocks shooting crazily through him might actually shake him into a heap of tiny pieces.

He ground his erection, steely and aching, against Negan’s lap, bucking desperately against him. Negan had him over his knees where he sat in the back of the squad car, and there was still a part of Rick that was absolutely dumbfounded that he had had _this_ particular fantasy floating around somewhere inside him.

“Baby,” Negan growled above him, “I don’t know what to fucking do with you. I’m trying to fucking punish you, and look at you. You fucking _love_ it.”

Rick gave a wailing cry of pleasure shot through with pain, his dignity discarded a long time ago.

“Say it,” he hissed, and he laid a burning, merciless smack against him.

“Love it,” Rick moaned, rocking wildly against him. “I love it, I love it, I lo - ah!“ he choked off into a gasp as Negan struck him again, and it traveled through his aching flesh straight to his cock in a jolt.

“Yeah, you love it,” Negan said softly, and the rain of blows halted. He moved his hand gently over the warm, red flesh, rubbing out the sting. “And who’s giving it to you, baby?”

“Negan,” Rick whimpered into the seat, eyes fluttering shut. “You, honey, you always know just how to…” he trailed off - he was babbling, and he ran out of breath.

Negan chuckled. “Look at you,” he marveled softly. “Officer Kinky. Who would’ve fucking thought it.” He resumed his painful attentions, slapping hard and steady as Rick muffled his cries into the seat. “You know where else I’d love to fucking do this?” he mused as he brought his hand down particularly hard, grinning as he watched Rick’s reddened ass bounce enticingly. “Your desk. At the station. What do you think? We sneak in…”

“Don’t even - ah, _fuck_ \- joke about that,” Rick gasped as he writhed against Negan’s lap, helpless to escape the blows.

Negan chuckled, pausing to rub him gently again. “No?” he said with a smile. “I think we could pull it off.”

Rick sighed, pressing his face into the worn leather of the carseat, glad for the respite. “There’s always someone there, Negan. How would you like Abe to walk in on us?”

Negan’s laughter rang out above him. “Maybe I _would_ like that, Rick, you ever thought about that? Getting caught with _your_ pants down? Your ass as red as that big motherfucker’s hair? That would be one hell of a laugh.”

Rick twisted to stare over his shoulder incredulously. “You are the biggest fucking pervert alive.”

Negan grinned and answered him with one more hard slap that forced an undignified, surprised yelp from him before reaching down to tweak his nose. “The biggest,” he agreed softly. He slipped slick fingers into Rick without warning, and the other man’s eyes fluttered as he moaned at the sudden, sweet invasion. Negan leaned over him, towards his face. “And you _love_ it,” he said, voice barely above a whisper, “so what does that make you?”

Rick tried to lob back something witty, but he couldn’t, he couldn’t. Negan had him again - helpless, utterly lost in a thick, sticky haze of pleasure, thrilling to his every touch.

Negan bent and kissed his shoulder gently, sensing that he was close to overwhelmed. “Want me to fuck you now, Rick?”

“Yes,” he said in a strangled whisper.

“Then let me up, darlin’,” Negan said with a smile, stroking the back of his thigh.

Rick’s legs wobbled as he tried to lift himself off Negan’s lap. Negan slid from beneath him, and he collapsed limply against the seat again.

“Aw, honey,” Negan rumbled above him, sounding concerned. “I think I’m gonna carry you up to bed. Lay you down on something nice and soft. What do you think?”

Rick was shaking his head. “Wanna do it in the car,” he confessed, blushing hard. “Although I think the cuffs can come off. My arms are getting sore.”

“Shit, Rick, why didn’t you say anything?” Negan’s hands were on the cuffs immediately, and they fell away with a jingle. He bent and laid himself over Rick, kissing the back of his neck and shoulder as he rubbed his aching wrists.

Rick sighed contentedly as Negan kissed and soothed, his weight against him comforting everywhere except his protesting backside. His arousal was still throbbing, but the urgency receded slightly as he basked in the soft attention Negan was giving him. The other man shifted above him, and suddenly his hands were on his waist, lifting him to settle on his knees on the seat.

“Ready, honey?” Negan asked behind him, and the familiar soft clink of him shedding his belt sent an aching bolt of fresh arousal down his spine and into his core.

“Yeah,” he uttered hoarsely, smiling a little into the fraying leather his cheek rested on, “I’ve been bad, remember? Punish me.”

Negan scoffed behind him. “You haven’t been bad, you fucking idiot. You haven’t been bad a day in your life. You’re the best man I fucking know - the best I’ve _ever_ known. Why do you put up with my stupid bullshit?” His erection nosed Rick’s entrance, and Rick’s heart sped up until it was slamming against his ribs.

“Because you know just how to fuck me,” he whispered, flushing a little at his own boldness.

Negan startled behind him, barking out a nearly disbelieving laugh. “I’m a real bad fuckin’ influence on you, deputy,” he murmured as he pushed slowly into his lover.

Rick whimpered faintly, almost silently, as the familiar, sweet ache of fullness robbed him of his breath. _Tell him you love him,_ his mind whispered. Rick cried out as Negan gave a slow, smooth thrust. _Tell him you love him._ He clutched convulsively at the leather beneath him as the man above him held his hips steady. _Tell him you love him._ He squeezed his eyes shut as Negan rocked him forward, pleasure swallowing him whole.

 _Not yet,_ Rick thought, his mind a confused haze, _not yet._

Letting him fuck him on his knees in the back of his own squad car, put his own cuffs on him and bend him over his lap, spank him until his sore ass was _as red as that big motherfucker’s hair_ \- trusting him with that was one thing. That other thing, though…he wasn’t ready for it. He knew he wasn’t. Not yet.

Everything went closed and dark as he came; it shook him like a rag doll. He was pulling apart at the seams, and he hardly registered the harsh cry behind him or the warm slide of wetness down his thigh. He was only dimly conscious of being handled gently, turned and maneuvered, and he let his limbs be arranged like he really _was_ a doll. The first thing he was fully aware of again was seeing the door to the garage receding from his line of sight, and he realized that Negan was carrying him.

“Where you takin’ me? Back to your lair?” he murmured, head against Negan’s shoulder.

He shook with quiet laughter. “That’s right, sweetheart. Back to my lair, where you can sleep off everything I just put that ass through. I’ll wake you up for dinner.” He paused at the doorway of the bedroom to press a tender kiss to Rick’s forehead.

“I’m going to sleep like a damn log,” Rick sighed, and his eyes were already heavy with the thought.

“Glad _my_ log could be of service. What?” he said, grinning at Rick’s sleepy groan. “Honey, you walked straight into that, don’t blame _me_.” He deposited him carefully on the bed, pulling the sheets over him. He bent and kissed Rick’s tousled curls. He remained there for a long while, stroking Rick’s hair softly and dipping down to rub his back.

Rick was drifting slowly down, down into the soft mattress, down into the sleep that stretched its waiting arms up for him.

“Honey.” Negan’s voice was a distant rumble, like thunder. “ _Rick._ ” Closer to his ear, but still so far away. “How’d I get so fucking lucky? I know it’s nothin’ I did. I don’t deserve you letting me in like this.” He sounded subdued and sad, and Rick didn’t understand it, didn’t like it.

He almost said it, right then. He almost, almost said it. But he was falling asleep, and anyway he wasn’t ready. Not yet.

 

**Author's Note:**

> *tap dances off stage*


End file.
